Wet Potato Chips

Surely unhappy winds reign on thoughtful days

Veins trembling, breath fighting, refusing to be taken

And we know it’s time to leave



It’s time to close every open door.

Time to bolt every pretty open window and hide.

That’s what this feels like,

Time to hide, and leave.

They won’t miss us after closing all the blinds.


Lies, dress seductively

So don’t fall for what you see, or feel

Being dramatic completely missing the mark, refusing to correctly steer

We’re not really watching our watches

We don’t know if it’s time to leave


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